


A Moment Alone

by masulevin



Series: Self-Indulgence AU [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Fantasizing, Masturbation, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 06:51:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10691973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masulevin/pseuds/masulevin
Summary: Awoken in the middle of the night, Knight-Templar Cullen takes advantage of his tenuous privacy to take care of himself.





	A Moment Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So. To be clear, the mage he's thinking of is my Sophie Amell, who is his age, and has been flirting with him for a while. In my AU they have a relationship before she's recruited by Duncan.
> 
> HOWEVER. I left the descriptions pretty vague for your reading pleasure.

A familiar, rhythmic sound draws Cullen out of his deep sleep. Far off, somewhere in the middle of the large Templar dorm, two knights think they're being quiet as they find a few moments of passion.

Cullen sighs and rolls onto his side, trying to distract himself from their coupling. Really it isn't very loud, for what it is. It's just the occasional gasp or little sigh of pleasure and the quiet creaking of the cot underneath them. The sense of movement woke him up more than anything else.

But now he's awake, and he can hear them--whoever they are--and his body responds to the sounds even as his mind begs it not to.

He grits his teeth and tries reciting the Chant, then thinking of some of the older mages, then of his family, but nothing can distract him from the growing need between his legs.

When is the last time he found his own release? His own temporary pleasure and distraction from the solemnity of his Maker-given duty?

One hand sneaks under his blanket without his conscious thought, grasping his half-hard length and giving it an experimental tug. The speed with which he hardens the rest of the way gives him his answer.

It's been too long.

He grits his teeth again and makes himself a deal. He can do this, but only if he  _ doesn't think of her.   _ Not this time. She doesn’t deserve it. That shouldn't be too difficult for him, right?

He shifts again, quietly, and unlaces his thin sleeping pants enough to dip his hand beneath the fabric. He wraps his fingers around his cock in a firm grip and moves up and down, up and down, shuddering at the burst of pleasure.

He moves faster, trying to ignore the rhythm of the couple but following it unconsciously, his mind supplying what reality will not.

As his thumb swipes over the crown, gathering up his dripping arousal, he imagines what it would feel like to have her smaller, softer hands doing the same thing. His hips buck involuntarily and he bites his tongue to hide the moan that wants to escape him.

The image stays with him, the way her mouth always twists into a smirk when she catches him staring, the way her tongue darts out to lick her lower lip before speaking, and the way she throws her head back to laugh sometimes, exposing the length of her throat to him.

He could kiss across her exposed skin when she rolls her head back on a sigh, nip at the juncture of her neck and throat, all the while her hand strokes him, uncalloused fingers making him shake and shiver.

Would she be slow and tentative? Or would she be certain, confident in giving him pleasure?

He moves his hand faster, his hips bucking so he can thrust into his fist. His toes curl and he clutches the base of his cock with too-tight fingers to give himself a moment to calm down.

Across the dorm, the couple has stopped rutting.

Cullen spits into his palm and starts again, the extra moisture helping his hand glide with more smoothness, and he has to bite his lower lip to stop the sighs of pleasure that want to escape.

The vision in his mind changes, puts her down on her knees before him, gazing up with her wide eyes darkened with lust, her lips parted, mouth ready to receive him.

This time when he bites the side of his tongue, he can taste the metallic tang of blood, but even that doesn't stop his mind from spinning, his heart from racing, his lungs pushing out too-loud huffs of breath, or his hand from stroking faster.

He twists his wrist at the height of each thrust, teasing over the head. She moves in his mind, standing to wrap her fingers around him as her lips brush the side of his ear, and he doesn't have the presence of mind to stop himself this time when the pleasure becomes too great.

He spills himself over his fingers and onto his sheets with a muffled grunt, pleasure wracking his body, the last image of her burned into his mind.

_ “I love you, Cullen,” she whispered,  _ and he came undone.

He shudders as he comes back to himself, then grunts again in irritation at the sticky puddle by his hip. He wipes his hand on the sheet and turns away from it, resolved to wake early and clean it in the morning before anyone will find out what he’s done.

He sighs heavily and presses his face into his pillow, a prayer for forgiveness already playing through his mind.

But the Maker won't forgive him if he won’t change his ways or remove this desire from his heart.


End file.
